Among the green bushes the songs of the thrushes
Are answering each other in music and glee
While the magpies and rooks in woods hedges — near brooks
Mount their spring dwellings on every high tree
There meet me at eve love we'll on grassy banks lean love
And crop a white branch from the scented may tree
Where the silver brook wimples and thy rosy cheek dimples
Sweet will the eve of that courting hour be —


We'll notice wild flowers love that grow by thorn bowers love
Though sinful to crop them now beaded with dew
The violet is thine love, the primrose is mine love
To spring and each other, so blooming and true
With dew drops all beaded, the feather grass seeded
The cloud mountains turn to dark woods in the sky
The daisey bud closes while sleep the hedge roses
There's nothing seems waking but you love and I


Larks sleep in the rushes linets perch on the bushes
While mag's on her nest with her tail peeping out
The moon it reveals her though she thinks night conceals her
Though bird nesting boys are not roving about
The night winds wont wrong her, nor aught that belong her
For night is the nurse of all nature in sleep.
The moon love is keeping a watch o'er the sleeping
And dews for real pleasures do nothing but weep


Among the green bushes we'll sit with the thrushes
And blackbirds and linnets an hour or two long
That are up at the dawning by times in the morning
To cheery thy milking with music and song
Then come at the eve love and where the banks lean love
By the brook that flows on in its dribbles of song
While the moon looks so pale love and the trees look so hale love
I will tell the[e] a love tale an hour or two long —
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